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Hekataea knew that it would take her several days to recover from what she had in mind for these creatures. To recover from the delicious savagery they would surely subject her to, if indeed she were to survive the experience at all. But she wanted this, she hungered for it. And wytch’s heart sang with excitement and yearning at the prospect of knowing the fulfilment of her sinful dreams.
Ever since she had learned the proper methods of daemonic binding and seduction, she had longed for the forbidden thrill of daemon flesh. And the wytch summoner had been mindful to keep an assortment of restorative elixirs and curative salves to hand. For the wanton carnality of mating with succubi was well known to be a savage experience.
Yes, it was all so deliciously sinful and so wicked. So wonderfully forbidden and sacrilegious. But Hekataea would no longer suffer the denial of her blasphemous longings, no matter how vehemently others might condemn her wilful delvings. The wytch yearned with all her heart to finally sate her hidden desires, and at last fulfil her wicked fantasies to their fullest extent.
Others scorned and eschewed the companionship of succubi, but Hekataea craved it profoundly. Indeed she hungered earnestly, for the pleasures which they alone could bestow.
Summoners of daemon kind were often sorely disappointed, when they learned the truth of the succubus when revealed in its true form. For although they could deceive the unschooled mind with their beguiling enchantments. There was not a summoner alive who did not see the daemons as they truly were.
For although they were indeed as shapely and as perfect in their female form, as any might imagine. Succubi were creatures who preyed upon both women and men alike. And were endowed in full measure with all the necessary physical attributes, to bring either male or female to unimagined heights of ecstasy. No matter what their particular inclination or sexual preference.
So perfect are the succubi in their beguilements in fact, that many an untutored mind might mistake them for a varietal species. Divided into female succubi and male incubi quite separate from one another. But such is not the case at all. And it is for this fact that the succubi are cast as particularly malevolent and evil in nature. For their endowments are to most minds perverse and repulsive in the extreme. But such was not Hekataea’s perception, for the wytch summoner viewed succubi as the very apex of creation.
To her mind it was humanity which was the perversion. A species cruelly torn asunder into male and female, created broken and incomplete. Indeed those attributes which inspired revulsion in others, inspired deep and abiding fascination in Hekataea. And indeed she did look upon the succubi with a covetous as well as needful eye.
For she imagined humanity rendered in perfection and without division. Free of men with their weak minds and pitifully limp fathers limbs. A species of nought but women, but women endowed with both womb and lover’s rod as well.
And now at last she would fulfil her wildest fantasies. Finally Hekataea would know the perfection of form she had always dreamt of. But the wytch’s ambitions were not purely carnal and indulgent in nature, for she looked to the daemon succubus with an acquisitive eye.
For Hekataea had discovered hidden deep in the pages of forbidden and arcane esoterica. Hints that the boon of the succubi might be rendered even unto humankind. That it was not impossible that the succubi had it within their power to transform mortal people unto their design.
Although such as she had discovered cast this altering of human flesh as a dire and scurrilous curse. An affliction of bodily integrity which such daemons might impart as affliction, rather than the blessing which Hekataea held such to be. Nonetheless it was written that humankind might be changed. Rendered once again even after the image of the succubus.
And it was the wytch’s paramount desire, to discover the truth of these assertions. And also the means by which such a sublime and perfect blessing might be acquired.
But Hekataea put these thoughts from her mind. Deferring her ultimate goal in favour of more immediate and accessible sinful delights. For the wytch was no fool, and perceived that greater learning would be required, before such an altering of her very self was even contemplated.
And thus Hekataea gave herself entirely, to the more immediate perils of treating with the creatures. These daemons for who human souls were their very meat and sustenance.
And at last the incantation was sung to completion, and the creatures began rapidly to take form in the elsewhere realm Hekataea had created.
Glimmering into being as though emerging from the heat haze which dances above a naked flame. Their otherworldly perfection and ethereal beauty emerging at last before the summoners astonished and envious eyes, until their conjuration was at last complete.
Both were essentially humanoid in form, though radically separate from that base species. Both creatures bearing long, sensually articulate tails, the serpentine grace of which had no parallel or equal amongst any earthly species.
And great horns as well bore the succubi. Grown long and coiled as a ram’s horn, upon the brow of one. But shorter and more elongated were those of the other. Spiralling through several elegant twists before terminating in sharp points.
And curiously elongated and pointed impish ears bore each of the creatures also. And eyes as black as pitch through and through. Deep and dark as the fathomless abyss of space and bearing no whitened sclera nor evidence of iris either.
Both were as impossibly desirable in the flesh, as Hekataea had rendered them in her fantasies and onanistic imaginings. And far more beautiful and deliciously terrifying than any she had but fleetingly summoned before.
They were in aspect and bearing the very epitome of desirability, though rendered in the most terrifying form. Their bodies irrefutably created to excel at one very precise function.
For just as the hyena is evolved for its joyous and opportunistic villainy, the owl for its murderous nocturnal stealth, or the serpent for its venomous potency. So the succubus is evolved for the seduction of flesh and for the predation of mortal souls.
Phantoms of deepest darkest fantasy were they, rendered into reality and made flesh. Their mere presence inciting the smouldering embers of Hekataea’s arousal to catch alight entirely. Setting the bonfire of the wytch’s lust ablaze with irresistible urgency, such that Hekataea did tremble with want.
One of the two daemons was rather small in stature, but full of figure nonetheless. Gorgeously curvaceous and eminently endowed with all those attributes which thrilled and entranced the wytch. The very image of youthful and girlish desirability and the very flower of virginal allure. But marked by the indelible stain of the villainy and wickedness which dwelt within her.
The other was a magnificent creature indeed, gorgeously incarnated with broad hips and solid powerful limbs. Evocative of all which is womanly and inspiring, the very epitome of a Venus made flesh. Her robust features so beguiling to Hekataea that the wytch could scarcely contain her excitement.
Each of them were impossibly arousing in form, and succulent to the wytch’s eye. And Hekataea’s heart thrilled wildly at the prospect of coupling with the entities.
Their very presence alone naturally provoking excitement and arousal in copious measure. This was their perfect daemonic magick and their seductive glamour at work. And this in addition to the invigorating properties of her potion, caused Hekataea’s desires to become immediate and insistent indeed.
At length, one of the two creatures spoke. Her voice as beguiling and as sweet and lyrical as birdsong at dawn. And as magickal and enchanting as the sweetest angelic voice which ever sang in glorious exaltation.
“Who is it that summons us from the daemonic realm?”
“Who is it that that would have the reckless audacity, to tear us from our delicious hell? And bring us to this gloomy realm of mud and pale skies?”
Hekataea took a deep breath and calmed her thrilling nerves as best she could. Concentrating her will on the task in hand, in spite of her delirium of excitation. For treating with daemons was potentially a path fraught with the direst peril. And the wytch could not afford to lose her head, not at this stage at least.
“A wytch who knows that she must keep her name to herself….” Hekataea replied, with all the haughty self-assurance of one exerting mastery.
“Until she has learned those of the, daemons she has summoned.”
“Very good” the entity chuckled, recognizing the wytch’s intelligence as well as her delightfully reckless determination
“My name is Azorah.” The smaller of the two daemon succubi supplied.
“And you…?” The wytch looked to the other daemon.
“My name is Hazebaal….” the magnificent being supplied before continuing.
“We are compelled into your world by various means. By the yearning of a lonely soul, or by the desperate pleas of a bereft and broken heart.”
“But very seldom are we intentionally called. And even more seldom still by any summoner or conjurationist.”
“Summoners are wont to turn their noses up at daemons such as us, what business have you with the succubi…?” Azorah added, discerning something of Hekataea’s desires.
“Is it that the features which repel others so intrigue you that you crave our affection, do you mean to be with us wytch? Do you desire to know our flesh?”
“Perhaps” Hekataea replied as coolly as she could. Perceiving in Azorah’s reply that the daemon had looked into heart and seen the truth of her intent.
“I am by no means a prudish zealot, and would not reject your advances should they be made.” Hekataea replied with all the haughty aloofness she could muster. “But I have summoned you because there are secrets I would learn and mysteries I would have revealed.”
And silence fell for moment or two before another word was spoken. Hekataea perceiving that the extent of her powers were being gauged and tested.
And to her distress Hekataea found herself floundering a little under that scrutiny. For daemonic control was a difficult task at the best of times, and with arousal driving her to distraction as well, Hekataea struggled to maintain dominance. She wanted these creatures with every fibre of her being, and the urge to throw herself at their mercy was proving overwhelming.
To submit to their intoxicating aethereal glamour, and let them take her unprotected in whatever devilish means they wished. To know the delicious degradation and gorgeous debasement of their fierce daemonic lust.
The daemon named Azorah fixed the wytch with a tempting and seductive eye, as she spoke at last in her sweet and innocent tone.
“Perhaps if you were to please us, to fulfil our wanton desires? We might be persuaded to share something of our magick.”
“Perhaps you might…?” Hekataea continued, regaining her dominance somewhat. “And perhaps you might not.”
“Perhaps you might set upon me should my binding incantations fail. And tear my very soul to shreds and greedily consume it, as the wolf gobbles up the lost lamb.”
And then a thought occurred to the wytch Hekataea.
If she was to extract from one of these daemons that which she desired, it would take fortitude, patience and cunning. Hekataea sought to test the integrity of her magick circles and the strength of her binding, and also the extent of the daemon’s agency.
And Hekataea could think of no more effective a test, than to compel the creatures to act for her amusement. To test the daemons patience and provoke their pride to action.
Better to do so at the outset while she was still at the height of her powers and the entities might be easily banished. Than later when her fortitude might be much abated. And thus the wytch spake.
“Perhaps I might be persuaded to offer the knowledge of my flesh and the treasure of my sex in exchange for certain boons.” Hekataea cajoled.
“But perhaps I am not yet at the apex of my desires” the wytch blatantly lied.
“Perhaps you will play with each other for a while, to help whet my appetite a little. Then I might be better able to win you favour.”
And while Azorah did giggle girlishly at this, the daemon Hazebaal issued forth an expression which seemed the dwell somewhere between purr and growl.
“She wishes us to perform for her….” Azorah who sensed the wytch’s trepidation, continued wickedly as she turned to Hazebaal.
“Then let’s not disappoint the slut wytch….” Hazebaal replied appending insult to acquiescence. For Hazebaal could feel the heat of Hekataea’s desires, indeed the wytch’s lust was so strong and so blatant that she could smell the sweet musky scent of her arousal.
And perhaps this would be the weakness she might use to defeat the impudent wytch’s binding magick, and be free in the mortal world awhile. So turning to her companion Azorah, Hazebaal wantonly uttered.
“If the slut wytch likes to watch, then let her have her way.”
“I like it when they want to watch.”